


light me up

by buhnebeest



Category: Generation Kill
Genre: Comeplay, Felching, M/M, PWP, Snowballing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-26
Updated: 2013-09-26
Packaged: 2017-12-27 16:38:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/981195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buhnebeest/pseuds/buhnebeest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fill of <a href="http://generation-kink.dreamwidth.org/1828.html?thread=14116#cmt14116"> this prompt</a> over at <span></span><a href="http://generation-kink.dreamwidth.org/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://generation-kink.dreamwidth.org/"></a><b>generation_kink</b></p>
            </blockquote>





	light me up

There’s the beginnings of a bruise on Nate’s collarbone, a red little mark that will darken up to a deep purple, a perfect blemish to mar the paleness of his skin. Brad noses it thoughtfully, wondering if he can get away with another one on the curve between Nate’s neck and shoulder, right above the neckline of those fancy homosexual cashmere sweaters he likes to wear. 

“Don’t even think about it,” Nate objects weakly, without opening his eyes. His voice is hoarse and thick, practically purring, his body a loose fucked-out sprawl under Brad’s, yielding and open from Brad’s fingers, from his tongue. Nate is a little spoiled maybe, Brad thinks, smirking, running his fingers through the come on Nate’s trembling abs. 

“Look what a mess you made,” Brad croons, ghosting his teeth over Nate’s Adam’s apple, a soft tease. Nate moans low in his throat, curling his arm around Brad’s neck to keep him close. Or to restrain him, probably. Brad grins before biting down lightly, not enough to leave a mark, but enough to make Nate feel it, make him squirm for it. 

He lets his slippery fingertips walk a path over Nate’s belly, over his pecs up to his chin, lets them rest on Nate’s mouth, painting it glossy with come. He pulls back to inspect his handiwork, and Nate grins up at him, gives him a duck-mouth like a goddamn teenybopper with her first cell phone, fucking mocking Brad’s perfectly reasonable appreciation of his cocksucker lips. Brad grabs a fistful of his hippy boyband mop of hair and tilts him up for a kiss, a slick wet one, tongues gliding together without much care or inclination for finesse. He can’t resist biting at the lush plump of Nate’s bottom lip, sucking it pink and puffy and pretty. 

“Weren’t you gonna fuck me?” Nate says, breathless, mouth smearing indecently against Brad’s. He wraps his legs around Brad’s waist tightly, pulling him in until Brad is cradled close between his splayed thighs, tilting his hips upwards helpfully. 

“Such a greedy little cockslut,” Brad scolds lovingly, rubbing his dick between Nate’s ass cheeks, enjoying the silken hot urge to thrust, in his thighs, in his groin, his whole body. Nate fucking whines impatiently, reaches between them, gripping his fist around Brad’s cock, stroking roughly, and Brad clenches his jaw against a noise, hips jerking into the touch involuntarily. Nate guides the head of Brad’s dick to his hole, pressing against it as much as the awkward angle will allow. 

Brad rocks in slowly, one smooth glide, his cock sliding easy inside the sweet clench of Nate’s ass, perfect and messy, clutching hungrily around his dick. Nate groans, head tipping back, red mouth falling open in a soft ‘o’, still too sore, but unwilling to get Brad to wait, one hand coming to rest heavily on his tattoo. Brad keeps his thrusts shallow chivalrously, going slow and sweet first, letting Nate get used to the overstimulation. Brad stares down at where his cockhead disappears inside, where Nate’s little asshole is stretched wide and straining around him. 

Nate shudders hard when Brad glances his prostate, fingernails digging into Brad’s skin, muscles tensing and clutching around Brad’s cock, and Brad fucks in deeper, faster, can’t help it, hips snapping to chase that perfect tight heat, addicted to the quiet hitches in Nate’s breathing, his choked off little moans. Between them, Nate’s cock is limp and sensitive and a still a little wet with spit, and every time Brad thrusts he rubs his abs against it, loving Nate’s full-body shudders, the way his eyes squeeze shut. 

“Fill you up,” he says, blurts straight from his gut, words seeping like molten desire from his mouth. Brad can barely hear himself through the blood rushing in his ears, but the tone is unmistakable, lust-drunk and stupid with it. “Fill you up, get you all wet and full with my come, fuck—”

“’m already full,” Nate slurs, back arching when Brad fucks in just right, nailing his prostate, “Brad, fuck, I want it, give me please—” 

He comes out of fucking nowhere, vision whiting out, shoving himself inside, so fucking perfect. By the time he regains some of his faculties Nate is rubbing his hardening dick against Brad’s belly, making a distressed little noise when Brad pulls away. 

“Keep it—” Brad shushes him, presses his fingers against Nate’s asshole, rough, pushing, “Keep it in.”

Nate whimpers a little but clenches down, thigh muscles twitching minutely with the effort, and Brad pecks a kiss to his bitten-red mouth in approval before sliding down his body.

“Hold your legs open for me,” Brad murmurs, tender and mean, guiding up Nate’s legs so he can wrap trembling fingers behind his knees. Nate’s cheeks flush red, eyes wide and drunk-looking, spreading his thighs so Brad can settle down between them and look, inspect. Brad hums approvingly, cupping his palms around the smooth curve of Nate’s ass cheeks, squeezing, runs his thumb along the rim of Nate’s asshole, presses down lightly, testing. It’s all sore and red, gaping a little, loose, glistening with lube and spit and come, used up. A hot rush of possessiveness spurs him forward, and he licks a soft kiss into Nate’s hole, savoring. 

Nate makes a choked sound above him, a strangled little grunt. 

“Hmm?” Brad stays close, lets his breath play over the sensitive skin of Nate’s perineum, his balls. “Did you say something, sir?”

Nate’s knees hook over Brad’s shoulders heavily, his fingers landing in his hair, pulling a little, no pushing, pushing him back down, and Brad smirks, leaning forward to tongue his way into Nate’s hole, doesn't bother with restraint after a clear go-signal. Nate shivers harshly, body tensing hard and then relaxing all at once, flooding Brad’s mouth a little with come, and Brad takes it, laps at Nate’s pretty used-up hole hungrily. He’s careful not to waste anything, slipping his tongue in deep to make sure. 

Nate gasps his name, pulling on his hair again, and Brad crawls up his body, takes his parted mouth in a sloppy kiss, letting Nate taste his come, dripping his mouthful between Nate’s parted lips, licking up whatever he spills along Nate’s chin and giving him that, too. Nate moans throatily, loud, slurping lewdly on Brad’s tongue and stealing every last drop. 

Nate is hard again, cock curving up against his belly, and Brad presses a hand between Nate’s legs to give him some friction, lets him rut his dick against Brad’s palm until he comes, groaning like he’s in pain. 

Brad lets their kiss turn soft before he pulls away, reaching up to take Nate’s legs off his shoulders and stroking his knees and hips, getting the blood flowing. Nate looks fucking beautiful, wrecked and flushed, completely melted into the mattress, skin shiny and slippery, hot to the touch, stained and bruised and sated. 

“Jesus Christ,” Nate rasps, laughing a little, eyes bright and intent on Brad’s. “Warn a guy.”

Brad tuts, tracing a finger idly through the come cooling on Nate’s belly. 

“All right,” he says evenly, and licks a long, lingering path down Nate’s chest, “Fair warning, sir.”


End file.
